


Music Night on the ISD Chimaera

by MissMcGarden



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels, Star Wars: Thrawn Series - Timothy Zahn (2017)
Genre: F/M, Reader-Insert, Self-Indulgent, a bit OOC but I digress, reader and Eli Vanto are childhood friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:02:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27793522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissMcGarden/pseuds/MissMcGarden
Summary: Reader is an officers aide aboard the ISD Chimaera with an idea that just might bring about some much needed team bonding, and possibly reveal something unexpected about her superior officer.
Relationships: Eli Vanto & Reader, Thrawn | Mitth'raw'nuruodo/Original Female Character(s), Thrawn | Mitth'raw'nuruodo/Reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 53





	Music Night on the ISD Chimaera

“Music Night?”

You nearly grimaced as your words echoed back to you in the Grand Admiral’s smooth voice. Of course it was a ridiculous idea, but Eli Vanto had practically dragged you to Thrawn’s office with the idea fresh in your mind. You hadn’t been this nervous since first meeting the Grand Admiral, but you’d run enough errands and served enough caf to the man that these jitters made no logical sense to you.

“Yes, sir, music night,” Eli said, standing beside you. He gave you an encouraging nod to continue, and you managed to meet the Grand Admiral’s red gaze once more.

“Um, yeah, sir,” you continued. “I figured that it would be good for morale, and would, uh, help connect us?” you paused, clearing your throat. “I mean, being in the Empire and serving a greater purpose is what got us on this ship, but we could use some more… team bonding, per say? Everyone knows there’s two things that most, if not all, cultures have in common: art and music. Sir, you of all people would appreciate that sentiment, of course, and I think that, since we have people from a variety of upbringings in the seventh fleet, it would be a good way to showcase our differences and similarities under the banner of serving a common goal.”

You rambled. Of course you managed to ramble like a nervous teenager in front of the Grand Admiral. Warmth flooded your cheeks and you averted your eyes again. You felt like a fool.

“Sir, if I may,” Eli began with a grin. “I would most definitely enjoy the opportunity for _Shesi’keli_ and I to present some traditional Lysatran songs.”

Thrawn’s lip curled up in the slightest move, unrecognizable to someone who didn’t know the Grand Admiral well enough, at Eli’s enunciation of the Sy Bisti word. It was your nickname, one of many translations meaning anxious or unnerved in the lesser known trade language. It represented your trademark anxiety apparent from your first day on the ISD Chimaera, and the nickname stuck despite your now six galactic standard months aboard the massive vessel. Your face flushed deeper as Eli Vanto gave you a good-natured shoulder bump.

“I will… consider this extracurricular suggestion,” Thrawn said, taking his chin between his thumb and pointer finger. “Thank you, Lieutenant Aide _Shesi’keli_.”

“Thank you, Grand Admiral,” you said, ignoring how Eli chuckled at Thrawn’s use of the nickname.

“You two are dismissed,” Thrawn said, gesturing to his office door. “Lieutenant Commander Vanto, I expect you here for the briefing in one hour.”

“Yes, sir,” Eli said with a salute. You turned on heel and all but sprinted into the hallway, Vanto not far behind you. When the door shut behind you, you nearly rounded on the cheeky bastard.

“Eli Vanto,” you hissed. “That was so embarrassing. I can’t believe you made me ask him in person when I could’ve just sent in a request.”

“Relax,” he said with a grin. “Thrawn liked the idea. I could tell.”

“Of course you could,” you said, rolling your eyes and cracking a smile. “You’re the great Thrawn whisperer, after all.”

Eli rolled his eyes in return and elbowed you lightly in the ribs. You managed a quick “ow” before quickly reaching up and knocking his Lieutenant cap forward. At the clattering sound of stormtrooper footsteps, the usual patrol, you both straightened up and Eli fixed his cap. His hair stuck out sporadically from beneath the imperial gray as he respectfully nodded to the passing pair of stormtroopers.

You couldn’t help the snort of laughter that left your nose as you shuffled forward, towards the lift that would take you to the lower levels. If the rumbling in your stomach was any indicator, it was high time for dinner. You stopped before the lift, reaching to press your code cylinder into the small control panel as Eli quickly hustled to stand beside you.

“Nice one,” Eli said, a small frown on his face as he fixed his hair. “But really, I don’t see why you’re so nervous about this. Thrawn likes you. I’m sure you could ask him to conquer an entire sector for you and he would.”  
You jolted at that, pointer finger lingering over the code cylinder. Your eyes met Eli Vanto’s beneath furrowed brows.  


“You… you really think he likes me that much?” you asked.  


“Uh, yeah,” Eli said. “You’re the only competent officer’s aide we’ve had, well, ever. You’re extremely punctual, very polite, I’m pretty sure you’ve saved our lives at least once, you have everyone’s caf orders memorized…”  


“Yeah, but that’s just it,” you said as the lift doors opened. “I’m just an officer’s aide. I mean, stars, if it weren’t for your recommendation I wouldn’t be here.” you paused. “I think he just has to like me at least a little cause you and I are friends.”  


“Okay, yes, I definitely expedited your application,” Eli admitted, stepping into the lift with you. “But we’ve been friends as long as I can remember, and us ‘wild space yokels’ have to stick together.” he paused. “Besides, the recommendation was well earned. It came with an abridged telling of the time we ambushed the neighborhood bullies after school, including your wonderfully devised tactic of using firecrackers stuffed in small bags filled with Tooka droppings-”  


“You did _not_ tell him about that!” you exclaimed, face paling.  


“I did. It was a work of tactical genius,” Eli said with a grin. “Thrawn didn’t want just any idiot handling military information. He analyzed the situation and considered your offensive approach to be crude, but effective, though your instinct to protect me, your comrade in arms, showed that you had good character.” Eli paused, schooling his trademark grin into a more serious look. “ But all of that is beside the point. Yeah, I got you here, but you’ve proven yourself since. That’s all that matters. Plus, Thrawn isn’t judgmental like the other higher-ups. You should know that by now.” he paused to press the button that would take them to the mess hall. “I think he really likes you, _Shesi’k_.”  


The lights from the descending lift flashed as each floor passed, illuminating the space in a rhythm that seemed to jolt you from your surprise. You would speak, respond to Eli in some manner, but the worlds wouldn’t form. How could you comprehend that someone so vastly important actually liked you?  


“Wow,” you said. “I just… I respect him a lot, so knowing he likes me as a person is just really... validating, you know?”  


“Um…” Eli said, looking to you as if he was running an equation through his mind. “I guess. Do you still, you know-?”  


Before he could finish his question, the lift door opened, and some men in TIE pilot uniforms stepped in. Eli’s mouth shut quickly and you frowned.  


“I’ll tell you later,” Eli said quietly as the men settled into the lift.  


“Mess hall?” one asked.  


“Yep,” you and Eli echoed.  


The lift ride was silent, as was the following dinner at the mess. Apparently what Eli had to say, he wanted to say in private, and there wasn’t a time when the mess hall wasn’t bustling with crew. He had to leave before finishing his meal to attend Thrawn’s briefing, and you couldn’t help but frown, as your duty as an aide usually called for your attendance at said briefings. With a quick glance down at your datapad to check your schedule, you confirmed that your duties for the day had concluded.  


You tried not to look as anxious as you felt walking back to the dormitory space you shared with two other crewmates. Anya and Briika were already back, having finished their shifts in the engine rooms and bridge respectively. They sat on cushioned seats in the small common room of the dorm, looking at their datapads, so you figured your arrival wouldn’t disturb anything. You were wrong.  


“You’re back early,” Anya said with a frown. “Figured you’d be at some briefing.”  


“Nope,” you said, scowling. “Just got back from the mess.”  


“Did you see what they put in the end of the day announcement?” Briika asked, holding up her datapad. “Guess someone took your music night idea. First one’s gonna be at the end of the standard week, after hours.”  


“What?” you asked, practically lunging for your roommate’s datapad. “Music night?! This week?!”  


“Yep,” Briika confirmed. “Hosted in the old rec room that they turned into storage.”  


“Oh yeah, my department cleared that room out last week,” Anya said. “Apparently they were going to convert it back into a lounge. It’s got a nice echo.”  


“Thrawn approved music night,” you said, mouth agape. “He approved it.”  


“Wait, did you suggest music night?” Briika asked. “To our esteemed Grand Admiral?”  


“Uh, yeah,” you said, face flushing deeply.  


“You… asked him?” Anya asked. “Like, you asked him instead of thinking about asking him and then darting off at the first sight of blue?”  


“Eli made me do it,” you said, head in your hands. “In person. I was embarrassed to Jakku and back, but apparently Thrawn liked the idea.”  


“Maybe he knows you have a crush on him,” Briika said with a small, but devious, smile.  


“I do not!” you exclaimed half-heartedly.  


“The ‘Warlord of the Empire’ propaganda poster hanging by your bunk that you stare at longingly says otherwise,” Anya said, a fine edge of brazenness coating her words.  


You couldn’t help but glance at the offending thing. It depicted the Grand Admiral in his usual, regal straight-laced pose with a legion of stormtroopers in front of him and an artful depiction of the chimera behind him, all set on a backdrop of alternating colors. Eli had practically sprinted from some novelty shop with an armful of them during your first shore leave aboard the ISD Chimaera. Thrawn found the composition of the posters “fascinating” and you kept one for… patriotic purposes.  


“Okay, I did have a crush on him,” you admitted. “But that was when I was new here. I’m a more… seasoned member of this crew now. I just had to get used to the fact that I have zero chance with him, and that the best I can do is have him respect me for my work.”  


_Which he does_ , said a voice in your mind, _according to Eli_.  


“That’s… a little depressing,” Anya said. “I think you’ve got a shot.”  


“If that’s what you’re into,” Briika said with a snort. Your brows furrowed at the implication of her words, but Anya beat you to the punch.  


“Says the one who hooked up with a zabrak on shore leave,” she said, taking a sip from her thermos, a smirk evident in her voice.  


“We didn’t _hook up_ ,” Briika hissed, before turning away with a flush to her cheeks. “And I wasn’t talking about the fact that he’s a non-human, Anya. I may be from Coruscant but I’m not just some uppity, racist, _moron_.”  


“Okay,” Anya said, shrugging. “Sorry for assuming.”  


“I was saying he’s a bit… stiff for my liking,” Briika continued. “And, okay, a little bit of it is related to the fact that he’s non-human. He has such… terrifying eyes. I mean, kriff, I feel like those eyes could make someone burst into flames. Like twin turbolasers.”  


“I honestly think they can,” you said, a particular scene replaying in your mind. “I watched it happen. It was during a diplomatic meeting in the Belsmuth sector regarding the pirates we took out the month prior. I was taking notes and kinda keeping an eye out for anything unusual, like I normally do, but then one of the governors got snappy and Thrawn just _levelled_ this man with a gaze like fire. I swear I watched that governor melt on the spot.”  


“Governor ain’t the only thing that melted,” Anya mumbled into her thermos.  


The girls exploded into cackles and you tried to fight the smile coming to your lips. They continued to tease you as you went to your bunk and ungracefully flopped onto it, trying to ignore the fiery stare of poster Thrawn on the bunkroom wall.  


“Really, though,” Briika said, peering into the room. “If he’s willing to rearrange the end of week schedule to accommodate some completely unnecessary recreational thing because it’s meaningful to you, I’d say he at least likes you a little.”  


“I think he just likes Eli Vanto too much to upset his friend,” you countered, stubbornness winning for the day.  


“Or he likes you as a friend!” Anya shouted from the common room. “At least give yourself that!”  


You couldn’t help but smile as you pictured it. Thrawn, a friend. You figured maybe the fact that you had his caf order memorized, and were far less afraid of him than most people, counted for something. You’d been in briefings, strategy meetings, diplomatic situations, and one pretty intense ground assault with Thrawn, and he’d asked your opinion on matters of great importance more than once. Granted, your job and proximity to Eli Vanto meant you spent an unusual amount of time with the Grand Admiral, but you hoped that, perhaps, Thrawn would want to spend time with you anyway.  


Or, perhaps, this was the inner ramblings of a hopeless romantic who’d begun using the word “perhaps” too much because it sounded so _rich_ coming from his mouth. You were screwed. Completely and utterly.

****************************

The end of the galactic standard week came quickly, but the hours leading up to the first ever music night seemed to drag on, weighed down by your anxiety. 

You met up with Eli multiple times during the week to come up with some form of itinerary, but the first meeting would most definitely be touch and go. Even with a plan for the night somewhat formed, your stomach continued to twist into knots.  


The nickname _Shesi’keli_ was well earned as you shuffled through the hallway, letting your worries get the best of you. You wondered how many people you passed in your haste had the same destination, or if anyone would show at all. Your anxiety came to a head as you stood before the large door leading to the former storage closet. With a punch of your code cylinder, the door opened and your jaw dropped.  


“Hey! _Shesi’k_!” Eli yelled, waving his hand through the small crowd of people in the room. “Look at all these instruments we managed to get ahold of!”  


You gaped as Eli held up an _Ikutala_ , a traditional Lysatran stringed instrument. It made the most delightfully wild sound when played, and you hadn’t heard it’s twang since you left for Myomar academy. Anya and Briika were musing around the stockpile of instruments while crewmates in bridge uniforms, Stormtrooper blacks, flight suits, mechanic overalls, and various other uniforms milled about with them. You counted at least 40 people, and your shock turned into a splitting grin.  


However, the one face you didn’t see dampened your spirits a bit. It was almost silly of you to expect the Grand Admiral to come to something as unimportant as music night.  


The night began with a sort of meet and greet format, before devolving into something akin to show-and-tell. A small group of Naboo natives performed a song and dance that had been composed to honor a late queen, a girl from Corellia performed a song in the traditional throaty voice that was most often attributed to the Kel-Dor, as she’d been raised by one, and two groups consisting of pilots and stormtroopers had a competition to see who could best sing the imperial anthem. You and Eli, with the latter playing the _Ikutala_ , had even performed a traditional Lysatran song.  


All in all, the first bi-weekly music night aboard the ISD Chimaera was a success.  


“Thanks for coming,” you said with a grin to the retreating group of stormtroopers.  


“Thanks for having us,” he said with a grin. “Not gonna lie, I thought this was a joke of some sort, but it turned out to be pretty fun.”  


You smiled at his words and waved slightly as the group departed, leaving you, Eli, Anya, and Briika left in the spacious room. Eli dimmed the lights while you gathered up the scattered instruments.  


“You know, technically music night doesn't end for another fifteen minutes,” Eli said, checking his datapad. "I wasn't sure how long we'd go so we're booked through the hour."  


“Yeah, everyone headed out cause the canteen is having end of the week deals,” Anya said. “The TIE pilots said they want to convince the canteen workers to put a karaoke machine down there now that a sort of musical rivalry has settled between them and the stormtroopers.”  


“That rivalry existed before music was ever involved,” Eli said with an eye roll. “But overall, I think tonight went well.”  


You picked up the _Ikutala_ and smiled. It was the last instrument that needed put alongside the others.  


“Tonight isn’t over yet,” you began, holding the instrument up. “What do you say to ’four seasons’?”  


“Oh I haven’t heard that song in ages,” Eli said with a grin.  


“I’m curious,” Briika said, pulling up a chair and sitting. You and Eli settled into one of the lounge chairs and you handed him the instrument. Eli had always been the better _Ikutala_ player, and as his hands figured out the familiar chords, you felt a pang of homesickness that you hadn’t felt since coming aboard the Chimaera. As he began playing repeating chords, you recalled the words.  


“ _Winter, spring,  
_

__

__

_Summer and fall_.  


_Winter, spring,_  


_Summer and fall._  


_Four seasons, four loves,_  


_Four seasons, four loves_.”  


You sang, a rasp in your voice from the excessive use of it throughout the night. The song was simple, and soon enough, Anya had begun drumming out a rhythm on the chair beneath her while Briika put her high-class upbringing to show with a sort of interpretive dance.  


In the dim lit room, surrounded by friends and the twang sounding from Eli’s deft playing, you could almost imagine you were around a campfire back home. Only, the interior of a Star Destroyer was much quieter than the sounds of Lysatran nature. You continued to sing, Anya adding harmony, but when you finished the verse, a sudden clap startled you. Two more claps followed, and you watched in shock as two glowing red eyes signalled the presence of Grand Admiral Thrawn emerging from the corner of the room.  


“Told you,” Briika whispered to Anya. “Turbolasers.”  


“Grand Admiral, sir,” you said, standing to attention. “I didn’t know you- I mean- I didn’t expect you to be here… sir.”  


“At ease, Lieutenant Aide,” Thrawn said with a dismissive wave. “I found that performance to be very alluring. Are you aware of the song’s origin?”  


“It’s Lysatran, from what I know, sir,” you said, still standing at stiff attention.  


“It’s a lullaby, of sorts,” Eli added. “My mom used to sing it all the time.”  


“Interesting,” Thrawn said. “Only because it is neither Lysatran, nor is it a lullaby. It is a song composed by my people, the Chiss.”  


“Really?” you asked, entranced.  


“Yes. May I?” Thrawn extended his hand and Eli handed him the _Ikutala_. “My people live on a world of Ice. No season exists outside of what temperate worlds would consider winter.” he paused, looking directly at you. “So enamored, the earliest Chiss voyagers were, with the changing weather, the shift in the flora and fauna that did not exist on our own homeworld, that they composed a song commemorating the existence of seasons.”  


Thrawn sat in the seat Briika had vacated in her dancing and held the instrument carefully. With obvious years of practice, he strummed a few chords before settling into the same melody. You could do nothing but stand and stare as the Grand Admiral played and, as suddenly as a jolt from hyperspace, Thrawn began singing.  


You’d heard stories growing up from the traders and merchants visiting Lysatra of people hearing voices in the deep of space. They said that if you hear a voice singing in the deep of space, a more enchanting sound than anything you’ve ever heard, run. Turn course and do not dawdle. They say this voice is a siren, a being of myth that can drive a man mad and leave him stranded.  


You wondered now if that was yet another myth based on wild space encounters with the Chiss. As soon as the first words, sung in Cheunh if you had to guess, left his lips in the familiar melody, you were entranced. His singing voice was a rich baritone with a velvet rasp to it that spoke of the time that had passed between use. You were hesitant to move, hum along even, as if the slightest move would interrupt this moment.  


Too soon, Thrawn stopped singing, and it was only then you realized Eli, Anya, and Briika had vacated the premises. The only people left in the dimly lit music room were you and Grand Admiral Thrawn.  


“That was beautiful,” you said, the words leaving your lips before you could reign them in. Thrawn’s expression changed little, but his eyes shone with mirth.  


“I appreciate the sentiment, Lieutenant Aide,” Thrawn said, focusing his attention on the instrument. “Though it appears the performance resulted in a loss of audience.”  


“Well, it was incredible,” you blurted out. “Your language is beautiful, as is the meaning behind the story.” you paused. “It’s… enchanting to hear a song of love composed about something I’m so familiar with and sung in a language I'm not.”  


“Popular opinion amongst my people suggests that the song is solely about seasons,” Thrawn began. “But others speculate that the song was as much about a lover as it was about the seasons.”  


“Really?” you asked, watching as Thrawn set the _Ikultala_ down gently. “I suppose it makes sense. People tend to gravitate towards favoring one season or another, so it’s pretty poetic to compare different people you love to something so beautiful.”  


“Oh make no mistake,” Thrawn said, standing. You were very aware of how much he towered over you and swallowed deeply. “There is only one lover in this song. You see, the Chiss explorers were not just enamored by the changing seasons, but also the humans that endured them.” he paused. “My people are… rigid, unchanging at best. I believe this song was written by a Chiss who not only became enamored by the seasons, but by the humans who had the capacity to change in such beautiful manners. Perhaps it was speaking of emotional change, or of the growth one undergoes as one ages, but either way the versatility of humans inspired us.”  


“So…” you began, swallowing. “This song was a love song from a Chiss to a human. That’s…” you paused. “Fascinating.”  


Thrawn’s brow furrowed slightly and his lips pursed in a barely perceptible frown. You mirrored that frown with a parted lipped expression of surprise as the Grand Admiral moved closer and took one of your hands in his own. The same fingers that had so deftly played a love song now traced the lines of your hand gently.  


“Just as the Chiss of old found themselves enamored by seasons and the humans who endured them,” Thrawn began. “So I find myself becoming enamored with you.”  


You met his eyes in a jolt, staring deeply into the lighter irises surrounded by the deeper, blood red. Mouth agape, you could only manage a small sigh as the grand admiral gently traced over the tops of your hand with his thumbs.  


“You…” you could barely breathe. Words escaped you, dancing about in a chaotic storm between your brain and your mouth, unable to form a response to the revelation that made your most fervent dreams seem doltish.  


“Forgive me,” Thrawn said, releasing your hands. Your brows furrowed as he turned away, shoulders visibly tensing for only a moment before settling into their telltale straight postured position once more.  


“I obviously misread the situation,” Thrawn said, turning to face you once more. “If you would wish to be reassigned, I understand. It was hardly professional of me.”  


You shook yourself from a daze at the implications of his words. Misread? Did he mistake your silence for indifference?  


“Thrawn,” you began, stepping forward. Eye level with his chest, you turned your gaze upwards and gently reached for his hands, grasping them in your own.  


“I, uh,” you began, attempting to compose yourself in the red light of his irises. “I’ve harbored affections for you for, well, a while.” you paused. “Eli used to tease me about it, my roommates still tease me about it… I just… didn’t think I had a chance with you, if I’m honest.”  


You averted your gaze at that, fixing your eyes on the rank plaque on Thrawn’s chest. The sight grounded you. It allowed for the shock and elation to settle, and the cold feeling of doubt to creep in. It settled into the deepest crevices of your heart and made the offending organ race.  


Your name left Thrawn’s lips, followed by the firm, warm grip of his forefinger and thumb on your chin. He gently tilted your head up, forcing you to meet his gaze once more.  


“... May I?” he asked, voice nearly a whisper.  


“Yes,” you managed.  


As soon as the syllable left your lips, Thrawn captured them with his own. As cool and collected as the Chiss was on a daily basis, his kiss was anything but. His lips were a live blaze, consuming you and igniting every inch of your body with a fervor. Large, sturdy hands left your face and grasped your hip and back, pulling you flush to him. Your hands fumbled for purchase, eventually winding themselves around his neck, tangling into his short cropped hair.  
In retribution, Thrawn’s grip on your hips and back tightened. He only lifted you for a moment, lips never leaving your own, before depositing your body on the lounge couch and crawling over you with all the goodwill of a nexus closing in for the kill. A breathy sigh passed between your lips at the pressure of Thrawn’s body on your own and a low sound not unlike a growl came from his own in response. You were certain the time for music night to end had long since passed, but nothing so trivial registered in the realm of importance besides the Grand Admiral’s lips and hands setting your nerves ablaze.  


You finally pulled away, nearly heaving for air, and you swore a hiss came from between the Grand Admiral’s clenched teeth. The sound stirred something up in your abdomen and the resulting heat flushed every inch of you.  


“ _Shesi’k_ ,” Thrawn hissed out, running a hand through his hair. “My apologies. I did not mean to get so… carried away.”  


“No worries, sir,” you said, voice cracking slightly.  


Your face flushed red as you met Thrawn’s gaze once more. He stood, holding a hand out to help you do the same. As you stood, you noticed the disheveled state of your uniform, and hair most likely, but found comfort in the sight of Thrawn attempting to straighten out his own.  


“So,” you began, breaking the silence. “Did you only give music night the okay because you were ‘enamored by me’?”  


“No,” Thrawn said. “I gave permission for your extracurricular because I thought it was a brilliant idea, truly.” he paused. “I came because I care for you.”  


Your face flushed once more as you attempted to smooth your hair. Thrawn picked up your officer’s cap, which had been discarded in your tryst, and dusted it off lightly before handing it to you. You caught his hand in the exchange and pulled the Grand Admiral into another kiss, a smile playing at your lips.  


By the time the two of you left the storage room turned lounge, your uniforms had been mostly straightened out and no one in the hallway seemed the wiser to any... prior events. Events that Imperial regulations would most certainly frown upon. The hour was late, and you accepted Thrawn’s offer to walk you to your room with a smile.  


Upon arrival at your quarters, you spared a quick glance back and forth to make sure the hall was clear of any unwanted observers before pressing a quick kiss to the Grand Admiral’s lips.  


“See you tomorrow,” you said with a small smile.  


“I look forward to it,” Thrawn said with a small smile. “But we must be discreet. I do not think high command would take lightly to me courting my aide.”  


Courting. The word felt old, and sophisticated, but it definitely felt right in a way you couldn’t explain. It warmed you deeply to know Thrawn thought to label whatever was blossoming between you.  


“Sure thing, sir,” you said, grinning. “I will be the picture of professionalism.”  


“Good,” Thrawn said. “And, perhaps, you will find yourself meeting for important assignments in my office on a more regular basis.”  


“I look forward to it,” you said, face flushed. “Sir.”

****************************

“So you really expect us to believe you two just sat there and talked about music?” Briika asked. The three of you lay in your respective bunks, the only light illuminating the room coming from either the datapad in your hand or the singular bulb of the emergency light in the corner.  


“Yes, that’s all that happened,” you lied. “He was explaining to me the historical significance of four seasons in Chiss society. Nothing more.”  


“Is that why your rank plaque was upside down?” Anya asked with a snort. “And your hair all messy? You were just so _roused_ by Chiss history that you purposefully disheveled yourself.”  


“Oh she was roused by something,” Briika said with a snort. “And it definitely had to do with the Chiss.”  


“Would you two knock it off,” you said, forcing a frown even though the commentary amused you. “Grand Admiral Thrawn is a professional, and a very important man in imperial society. If this sort of gossip gets around…”  


“Yeah, yeah,” Briika began. “We know better. Best not to piss off the higher ups.”  


“Good,” you said, glancing down at our datapad. Your schedule for the next few days covered a majority of the screen, and you felt your heart race at the sheer number of office hours Thrawn had given the two of you together.  


“Okay, so since you seem to be bent on keeping your secrets,” Anya began. “I’ll rework my phrasing.” she paused to clear her throat. “So, if I were to ask the person who, hypothetically speaking, just spent the better part of an hour sucking face with the Grand Admiral if he was a good kisser, what would she say?”  


Briika chuckled lightly at that and you tried to hide your smirk. In reality, you wanted to tell them everything; How warm Thrawn felt pressed against you, the passion and hunger with which he devoured your lips, the way he hissed out your beloved nickname like a prayer. But, at least for now, you settled for half-truths and playing by the rules of your clever, and nosy, friend’s game.  


“Perhaps,” you offered with a smile. “Perhaps he is.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hello my dudes :) In light of the fact that this entire year has been a dumpster fire, I decided to write some self indulgent Thrawn fic. Hope ya'll enjoyed the fruits of the psychological breakdown that has been 2020. I also 100% borrowed the song "Four Seasons" from Avatar the Last Airbender. It's a beautiful song and is definitely the most underrated composition from that show.


End file.
